


Taken

by Puimoo



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Sibling Incest, Underage Sex, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 13:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puimoo/pseuds/Puimoo
Summary: Jordie takes what is rightfully his.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker/Jordie Rietveld
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16
Collections: Naughty List 2019





	Taken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [M J Holyoke (wholeyolk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholeyolk/gifts).

Kaz is easier to relate to like this, Jordie thinks. Hair thick with dust and sweat, sharp eyes dulled. Somehow his brother seems more real beneath his touch, slick fingers running up beneath the edge of Kaz’s shirt, dipping low into his shorts, pressing deep into the tender spot just below Kaz’s right hip. Kaz flinches, arches, all rigid confusion and blurry eyed fascination now that intellect is too hard to find through a vaguely drug induced fog. 

And, oh. How his brother manages to hide so beautifully behind intellect, crystalizing the world so quickly into fabrications of fractions that even Jordie thinks he becomes a number, even if that number always remains number 1. Jordie loathes it – loves it – wants to both consume and conspire against that intellect, but even more so when it allows Kaz (and only ever Kaz) to murmur away from lingering touches and calculate away the meaning behind a searing gaze. 

Brothers don’t feel for each other in that way, that intellect says. _We_ certainly don’t feel for each other that way, that intellect has always mocked. 

Jordie prefers _this_. The fear. Horror. The confusion. The scratches of need. All that tightly bound emotion slowly starting to unravel beneath each of Jordie’s touches, and each feathered breath of air against Kaz’s cheek, his chin, his ear. For each hoarse, chocked ‘no’ there is a hint, a thought of- 

“You are such a good boy, Kaz.” Jordie says it gently, gently, and Kaz shudders, eyes blowing wide and his fingers clenching tight into Jordie’s shoulder. Jordie smirks a little, a light hearted dare for Kaz to try and push him away. 

Kaz doesn’t. Of course. He doesn’t. 

Right now, Jordie doesn’t care why. 

“Such a good boy,” Jordie repeats again, takes a deep breath that shakes more than it should now that he finally has Kaz where he wants him – how he wants him – on their shredded bed of straw. It had taken so little for them to end up here. A touch of drug in his food, a supportive arm as he lead Kaz to bed. A strong push to keep Kaz down when he struggled, confused and unknowing. 

“Such a good boy.” Almost a mantra, almost a hymn. It does little to settle the tension in Kaz’s limbs as Jordie slips his hand higher, a finger rimming around the edge of his anus (and Jordie barely remembers removing Kaz’s clothes)- 

Jordie sides a finger slowly into Kaz and Kaz _gasps._ For a moment, caught there in that hiss of pain, Jordie almost stops. Jordie bites down on his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, tastes the metallic tint on his tongue and Jordie thinks he’s drowning. 

And then Kaz is tighteningly involuntarily around his finger, practically sucking him in, practically daring him to take what is his (what has always been his, if only Kaz wasn’t forever playing the blind fool). 

Jordie’s practiced this, wants it to be perfect. Fucked a couple of low-quality rent boys he couldn’t afford because Kaz is special and deserves better of Jordie than some fumbling virgin. 

“Jordie,” Kaz forces out, and enough of the Kaz of old remains that somehow even a desperate plea sounds like a command. “P-please... not. Not-” 

_Not like this,_ Jordie finishes off bitterly, silently for him. Because it is always ‘not like this’. Jordie despises him right now, smiles a hard smile that hurts his mouth, hurts _hurts_ hurts. 

Really, his little brother can be so cruel. To plead innocence – to plead _ignorance_ \- all to preserve his own shredded sense of dignity. To be the unmovable Kaz, he will allow Jordie to become a demon. 

Well. 

If that is the way he is going to play it. 

“Don’t worry little brother, just try your best to enjoy this.” It shouldn’t be too hard. “You deserve it,” Jordie adds, promises, and he pretends that there is a slither of guilt that slips then into Kaz’s gaze that means he knows (he always has). He drops his fingers down to Kaz’s cock and wraps them around it. Kaz arches up blindingly, uncontrollably into Jordie’s hand as though it aches. 

And then Kaz practically _screams._

Oh, now this is better! So much better. 

Kaz is not used to being touched. Not by gentle hands – their family is long dead, and who has time to comfort a pair of street brats too big for the alleys they hoard? Not by rough hands, because Kaz is to slick and too clever and too damn inward for his own good. 

Jordie jerks him once, twice. He somehow inserts a third finger, bends down and places a kiss against the top of his brother’s cock like the slut down Brokenwood Alley taught him. Kaz is wild, arm thrown across his eyes as he sobs back a curse, a threat, a plea. Jordie swallows them all, diving in for a kiss that is equally unbridled and raw. A delighted, shocked laugh escapes Jordie’s lips as Kaz comes then over Jordie’s fingers, barely touched, hardly at all. 

His brother is such a delight like this, free of that damnable reason that keeps this Kaz from Jordie. It’s only fair – only fair – that Jordie doesn’t wait, doesn’t breathe, just starts to pushes his cock in where his fingers held brief occupancy while Kaz rides out his orgasm, and oh god do those tremors ripple down through Jordie’s cock. 

And Jordie doesn’t wait (he has waited long enough, _years_), and even though Kaz is so tight the oil on Jordie’s cock is slick and hot. Kaz spreads beneath him, opening beneath him, and the shudders that start with Kaz’s orgasm never stop. 

When Jordie comes, Kaz’s name spills from his lips. 

Kaz can’t even look at him, shame and hurt burning bright in those eyes. It would be easy to leave him like this, warped and twisted and having to live with this. Live with THEM.

Except … Jordie really is a good brother. 

(sometimes he wishes he wasn’t) 

“You do have drugs coursing through your system,” Jordie says conversationally, lightly, despising the fact that he is allowing an out even as he finds himself unable to stop himself from doing exactly that. “Not much, granted. But enough that you might just be hallucinating all of this, dreaming it even.” He bends down, gently moving away the damp clumps of hair that cling to his brother’s forehead. “I know that this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dreamed of this.” 

His last few words are full of edges, each one belonging to Kaz. 

Relief breaks through some of Kaz’s horror, the shame. 

How quickly, Jordie can’t help but muse. How quickly Kaz can find a shred of that twisted rationality to cling to even when in the midst of a storm. Kaz is already deciding for himself what is true in his world and what is not. 

Jordie smiles a smile of broken glass as he pulls Kaz into his arms, feels his younger brother relax into his pull. Perhaps it is just exhaustion, or fear, or relief that Jordie is now a more acceptable version of himself. 

Yeah. 

Perhaps. 

Kaz stays in his arms until Jordie drifts off. 

He is gone when Jordie wakes.


End file.
